


hot dude at the office

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Hanukkah, Jason has a crush, Jewish Jason, Jewish Percy, M/M, jerking off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8970025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: “Do you want,” he asked, “to celebrate Hanukkah with me?”Percy blinked.Stared.And Jason suddenly realized how incredibly forward he was, how awkwardly and definitely not attractively forward he was.--Just a short drabble where Jason asks out the hot guy at the office. Mature/Explicit warning only for the beginning where Jason's jerking off.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not the Hanukkah fic I was hoping for, but the drabble that came out okay just in time for the holidays. Happy Hanukkah my dudes

Jason bit his lip and pushed his fingers deeper, wrist aching.

His mind supplied the images readily, having fantasized about this so many times before: forearms covered in inky sea monsters; eyes the color of murky waters; a smirk that got away with murder. He thought of those eyes pinning him, of those forearms holding him down, of that smirk as a thick cock pushed in, in.

“That's it,” that raspy voice would say. Plush lips would kiss his neck. “Good _boy_.”

Jason's breath hitched. Legs stretched. Hips pushed up, up.

And then shuddered back down. Jason swore.

His neighbors swore louder through the paper-thin walls and just like that Jason was pulled from his fantasy. He opened his eyes with a quiet sigh and made unfortunate eye-contact with his cat. Jupiter stared judgingly from his corner of the bed. A car alarm went off somewhere far below.

**

Jason Grace did not like his apartment. He did not like the roaches and he did not like his curtains and he did not like his furniture. He did not like his building and did not like his burrow and did not like New York City. But most of all, he did not like his job.

It wasn't that Jason was a negative person. He had just had higher expectations for himself. In college, he'd dreamed of directing films with his friends and writing plays that would get swooped up by producers. He'd go to New York City and work for some big publishing company while waiting to get discovered. He'd get some big apartment and pay off his loans and be able to take his cat to the vet regularly for check-ups.

And yet Jason had made few friends in college; his plays were still in his head and not on paper; he'd received no call back from Penguin Books; his apartment was a broom closet; and his cat's left eye had been watering for three months.

Luckily enough, he had managed to acquire a job at a small law firm near Midtown. The work was fast-paced and hands-on and Jason liked it well enough. It certainly payed well enough for him to be able to afford both his rent and his student loans. But the company itself, well. That was a different story.

It had first started when Jason was told he wasn't allowed to drink coffee from the reception area; that was for the lawyers, not for the people who worked for them. After that, it was the assistant manager threatening to fire him for eating a bagel; the co-worker muttering homophobic comments under his breath; the constant threat of being screamed at for making a small mistake; the heartless “how are you”s and the answers provided before the questions could be fully asked.

Jason hated it more than anything.

But there was one thing that made it worth it: the design department.

When Jason dropped off the mail in the morning, it was like stepping into a whole other company – a sea of color in the midst of an ocean of black. The cubicles were covered in photos and posters, sketches and oil drawings. A full-sized cardboard cut-out of Gandalf stood in the back, right corner. It was messily professional, casual yet fashionable – a real-life Pinterest post. And in one of those cubicles was the bane of Jason's existence and also the best part of it: Percy Jackson.

Percy Jackson had been the first person to hold eye-contact when he asked Jason how he was, the first person to say 'thank you' when Jason gave him his mail, and the first person Jason had heard casually drop an f-bomb. He wore graphic t-shirts under vibrantly colored blazers, leaned forward when Jason spoke, and his forearms were covered in American-traditional style tattoos: squids and whales, mermaids and sharks. Scylla gnawed at his left elbow. And what was worse was that he was hot like burning: his skin was a soft, chestnut brown; his eyes the color of drowning seas; and his hair hung about his head in fluffy, black curls.

Stopping by Percy's cubicle was the absolute highlight of Jason's day.

And it was no less of a highlight the Friday before the 24th.

**

Other than the lateness of the mail in lieu of the holiday rush, it was like any other day at the office. Jason helped Frank record the UPS tracking, sorted the mail, and then unsorted the mail into piles on his cart according to department. He then plastered a smile on his face and wheeled around the building, asking the usual and falsely interested 'how are you's to the regulars.

When he got to the design department, Jason's smile turned genuine. He heard bits of conversation as he passed out envelopes, glimpsed casually at advertisements-in-progress. Then his heart tripped over itself when he realized he had a FedEx package with PERSEUS JACKSON written across it in all caps.

He licked his lips and abandoned his cart, moving through the cubicles until he got to the last cube in the second aisle. Percy was wearing a black sweater with something on it Jason couldn't quite read. He was hunched over, too close to the screen, staring at his mouse as he pulled anchors around with the pen tool on some zoomed-in object.

Jason muttered, “Hi.”

Percy did not respond.

Jason noticed his headphones. Chewed his lip. Stepped forward. “Um,” he said. And gently touched Percy's shoulder.

Percy jerked.

Jason jumped.

“Shit,” Percy said, tugging one of ear-phones out and turning to look at Jason. “Sorry. Hey, man.” He smiled and took out the other ear-phone. Glanced down at Jason's hands. “That for me?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, stepping back a little even as he handed the box and sign-sheet to Percy. He caught the scent of a smooth cologne and for a brief moment his eyelids fluttered shut.

Percy scrolled his name down on the sheet and handed it back with a 'thank you'. But rather than going back to his work, he sat back in his chair so that the back of it pushed back even further and then swiveled in a circle so he could place his box on his desk and then turn back to see Jason all in one movement. “You doing anything for the holidays?” he asked.

Jason laughed softly at the spin. “No,” he answered. “My sister's stationed abroad, so it's just me this year.”

He waited for the question – what about your parents? – but was surprised when Percy didn't ask. Instead, he frowned and drummed his pen against his leg. “That sucks, man,” he said. “You're not doing anything with friends?”

“Nah,” Jason said with a shrug. “All my friends are in California.”

“Shit.”

“What about you?”

Percy tugged down his sweater so Jason could see a giant, gold menorah stitched on it with a series of eight–

“Oh my god,” Jason muttered.

'The festival of lightsabers,' the sweater read. Just to cause Jason pain. “I'm celebrating the first night with my mom,” Percy said, “but then she's gonna head up to Massachusetts to celebrate with my step-dad's family.”

“So you're by yourself?” Jason asked.

“Yeah,” Percy said and then gave a shrug. “But hey, I'll be working, so whatever.”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, “whatever.”

They were silent for a moment.

Percy finally nodded toward his Mac screen. “I gotta...”

“Oh!” Jason shoved his sign-sheet under his arm. “Right, sorry. I– Chag Sameach.”

Something passed over Percy's face – like sudden recognition. “Thanks,” he slowly said. “Chag Sameach.”

Jason left his cubicle.

Only to immediately come back.

Percy hadn't shifted his position, but his eyes drew up from the floor to Jason's face at the sight of him again. “Forget something?” he asked.

Jason didn't know what he was doing. In reality, he didn't even really know Percy. He just knew his coffee order because he once had to stand behind him in the copy room and watch him pour five hazelnut creamers into his travel mug consecutively; he just knew that Percy had an angry gray tabby named Triton because he'd once asked about the bite marks on his hands; he just knew that Percy had tattoos wrapped higher up his arms than his shirt let the office believe; he just knew that Percy had a little freckle on his left cheekbone, that Percy rewarded himself with Chinese food on Fridays, that his sense of humor could be horribly dark when he wanted to be work-inappropriate. But most of all, Jason knew he wanted to know more about him.

“Do you want,” he asked, “to celebrate Hanukkah with me?”

Percy blinked.

Stared.

And Jason suddenly realized how incredibly forward he was, how awkwardly and definitely not attractively forward he was. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck–

“I mean,” Percy said, “I don't know how fun celebrating with me would be. I've been told my singing voice is terrible.”

“That's fine,” Jason said. His face was flushing. “Mine is too.”

“And I kind of drink a lot.”

“Me too.”

“And I'll probably eat way too much of your food.”

“Only if I can eat too much of yours.”

Percy grinned, full on grinned. Jason's heart fluttered. “Well, then,” he said. “You've got yourself a date.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jason was going to vibrate out of his skin. By the time he grabbed his keys to leave the apartment for Percy's he nearly took out his phone to cancel. Even the fact that he had Percy's number in his contacts was too much.

He breathed in through his nose.

Breathed out through his mouth.

“Alright, Joop,” Jason said to his cat. Said cat glanced up at him from the corner of Jason's futon, which had yet to be re-folded. A small, electric hanukkiah sat in the window, the same one he'd used in college back when he couldn't burn candles in his dorm room. The three blue lights in the dark of the late afternoon almost made his tiny studio look cute if it weren't for the piles of clothes lying on the floor and the silicone dildo drying in the dish rack. “Wish me luck, okay?”

Jupiter gave him a half-lidded stare.

“Thanks, buddy.”

**

Percy's apartment was a small, one-bedroom in the Upper East Side. Jason waded through the hallways of the brown, brick building, glancing down at his phone and then back up at the doors. His foil pie container, the only tupperwear he had had, crinkled under his fingers. Finally, a white door glittered with a silver 6D and Jason stopped. Swallowed. Knocked.

There was a scuffle on the other side. And then the door swung open and Jason's heart stopped.

This, Jason was sure, was what he would see when he died: Percy in a form-fitting black sweater with the sleeves rolled up so Jason could see a trident and a glimpse of what looked like a leviathan. His eyes were as green as ever, an Irish sea Jason could drown in again and again and again.

Percy beamed. “Hey.”

Jason took a shaky breath. “Hey.”

“Happy Hanukkah.” He took a step to the side. “You find this place okay?”

“Happy Hanukkah,” replied Jason and stepped inside. “Yeah, it wasn't too hard.” He slipped his shoes off in the hallway, took a couple of steps and stopped, suddenly overwhelmed.

Percy's apartment wasn't huge or big or even medium-sized. But it was nice: there was a sweet scent mixed in with sandalwood and the familiar smell of Percy's soft, spiced cologne. The floors were hardwood and there was a tiny, but up-to-date kitchen. The living room was hugged by a small, black couch with white, decorative pillows and there was a glass coffee table on which a half-empty glass of wine sat. There were pictures up on the walls of various friends and family members in black and white frames and a couple feet away from the couch there was a tiny black, dining table on which a couple plates of food sat.

It felt like a date.

It felt like a date _night_.

And suddenly, without his consent, Jason's brain supplied images this being his future – the warm feeling of home, the warm feeling of Percy's smile, the warm feeling of eating something other than sandwiches from Duane Reade's, the warm feeling of eating with someone other than himself.

He could have cried.

But luckily Jason was saved by a chirping sound.

He looked down for the source. “Oh!” A gray tabby cat that must have weighed at least ten pounds stared up at him, his fluffy tail twitching. Jason bent down to pet him, heart swelling with happiness as the cat purred.

“Oh,” Percy said, suddenly behind him, “I wouldn't–”

The cat chomped his finger.

Jason swore and pulled his hand back.

Triton pattered away.

“Sorry,” said Percy. He took his hand in his once Jason stood, but there was no blood – it had all gone to Jason's face. “He's kind of an asshole.”

“Suddenly your scars make sense.”

Percy grinned. “Yeah. I call them love-bites, but I think that's mostly so I can feel better about his terrible personality.” He glanced up at Triton who had waddled and clawed his way to the top of the couch before laying down on the back of it, scowling at them. “But anyway! Uh, my mom made us some matzoh lasagna and I tried my hand at some latke cups – I wasn't sure if you liked applesauce on yours or not though, so I left the toppings off.”

Jason smiled, feeling just a little bit like melted butter. “Okay. I brought...” He took the aluminum foil off his pie container.

Percy sounded impressed. “Is that gelt?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, suddenly sheepish.

“You _made_ gelt?”

“Yeah. I thought it would be something fun to do. The shapes didn't come out as well as I thought they would – the molds were a little... But these ones are green tea flavored and these ones are dark chocolate.”

He looked up, smiling with pride, and then stopped. Percy was looking at him with wonder. “What?”

“Nothing,” Percy said. Then added, eyes sparkling, “You are _something_ , Jason Grace.”

Jason's heart stammered.

Percy stepped away then and toward the table, unaware that he had just slipped the floor out from under him.”What do you want to do first?” he asked. “Sun doesn't go down for another half hour. I have some cookies we could decorate?”

“Sounds good.” Jason placed the pie container on the table. “What do you want me to get?”

**

“You said your sister was stationed abroad,” Percy said, smearing vanilla frosting over a sugar cookie. They were sitting on the couch, the coffee table now covered in cookie plates and frosting, sprinkles and icing. Jason had been terrified to get anything on it, but Percy had gotten a glob of frosting on the glass himself within the first two minutes they began decorating. “She in the Army?”

“Marines,” said Jason. He drew a blue Star of David with the icing on one of Percy's blank cookies before popping it into his mouth. Around his mouthful he added, “She's a Lieutenant.”

“Hard-fucking-core,” Percy said.

Jason agreed. “We used to live together. I mean – Obviously, we did; we're siblings. But after my mom died, I moved in with her. She enlisted after I got into college.”

“You still in school?” Percy asked.

Jason shook his head. “Graduated this past May.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“She likes it there?”

“She does,” Jason said. “It suits her. She has a strong sisterhood with the girls in her troop.” He ate another cookie, making a face when Percy gave him an amused look. “What?”

“You don't even bite them, you just inhale them.”

“They're practically bite sized already.”

Percy just smiled and smeared more frosting across another cookie.

“What about you?” Jason asked.

“What about me?”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“I have a little sister,” Percy said. “But she's seven, so I grew up mostly as an only child.”

Jason frowned. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four,” Percy said.

“You have an seven-year-old sister?”

“My mom was nineteen when she had me.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah. But it's fun. I mean, I feel almost like an uncle rather than an older brother, but it's fun.”

They were quiet for a moment and then, at the same time, ate a cookie each in one bite. Making eye-contact, they erupted into muffled laughter. Jason tried to say something around his mouthful, nearly choked, and then laughed again as Percy lost it. He gestured toward the window after he'd swallowed. “We should light the candles,” he said. “The sun's going down.”

Percy looked out the window where the sun was, in fact, casting an orange haze across the building across from Percy's. “Oh, shit,” he said. “Yeah. Here – I'll get the candles.”

**

Percy's singing voice was as bad as he had said. He led the blessings off-key and gently smacked Jason in the shoulder when he pretended to die. They were quiet a little bit after that, but it was a good kind of quiet. The candles on the hanukkiah were magical and watching them twinkle against the black backdrop of the night sky outside Percy's window set fire to something in Jason's heart he had never been able to name.

They ate by candlelight and Jason finally got the chance to replace his idea of Percy Jackson with the actual Percy Jackson. He had jerked off to the idea of Percy holding him down and taking what he wanted, but the more the night went on the more he got the feeling that Percy was the kind of guy to lay between your legs and eat you out for hours, the type that slowly ground his hips into yours while kissing you and kissing you and kissing you.

His dad had been a fisherman, which was where his love for the ocean stemmed from. His mom was a writer, which was where his love for the creative came from. He liked long walks on the beach (seriously), preferred grunge-looking designs over the corporate ones he worked on, and whatever money he didn't spend on his rent and student loans he splurged on comfort food.

The one thing Jason had gotten right, at least, was that Percy had more tattoos than he showed. Jason asked about them after a glass of wine gave him an extra boost of confidence and Percy, amused, rolled up his sleeves even further.

Surprisingly, they weren't all sea monsters.

A beautiful compass rose the size of Jason's hand hugged his left bicep, surrounded by flowers and sea shells. It was an intricate palette of black, gray, and blue.

“Can I...?” Jason asked.

He raised a hand.

Percy shrugged.

But when the pad of Jason's finger traced along the design and those below it, Jason couldn't help but notice the atmosphere had changed. Percy's smile, once jovial, had turned tense. Jason swallowed and pulled his hand away. “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” Percy said. “You like tattoos?”

“I do,” Jason agreed. _Yours_. “I always thought about getting one, but I don't like needles.”

“What would you get?” Percy asked. He picked up his wine and took an enormous swig.

“An eagle,” Jason said. “It was a pretty big symbol in Ancient Rome and I'm kind of a history nerd.”

“That right?” Percy smiled and suddenly the atmosphere was back to normal.

**

They made plans for the next night and the night after that and the night after that. Jason couldn't help but feel as he slipped his shoes back on that it felt like they were planning dates in advance. Still, though, he wasn't sure if that was what this had been.

Jason licked his lips and readjusted under his arm the container of leftover lasagna Percy had packed for him. “I had a great time,” he said.

Percy smiled, his hands in his back pockets. “Me too. Thanks for coming over – this was a lot better than spending my second night of Hanukkah scrolling through Pinterest for hours, so.”

Jason hugged his lasagna to his chest. “I'll see you tomorrow night?”

“You will,” Percy said.

Jason let himself out.

But just before the door closed, Percy called him back.

“Did I forget something?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, I– No, um.” Percy stepped out of the apartment. Clasped his hands together. Separated them. “I wanted to do this.”

A moment passed.

“Do what?” Jason asked.

Percy made an agitated sound. “I wanted to kiss you, but I don't want to do it if it turns out you don't actually feel that way.”

Jason flushed hot. “And you do?”

“Well, I mean. I wouldn't spend Hanukkah with just anyone. I've kind of had a crush on you since you started working at the firm.” Percy rubbed at his arm, not meeting his eyes. “I hope this doesn't weird you out, but sometimes you're the whole highlight of my day.”

Jason felt his heart might burst. He closed the space between them. Percy met his eyes.

“Sometimes,” Jason said. “You're the whole highlight of mine.”

He leaned in.

And discovered something else he'd gotten wrong: Percy's lips were, actually, remarkably soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, n o w it's done! Happy Holidays!!


End file.
